Interludes
by lafemmewookita
Summary: These are disconnected interludes before, during and after kotor (knights of the old republic) I and II. Stories could contain Exile, Revan, Carth, Canderous Mandalore (personal favorite), Mission, Dustil, Atton, etc. I'd appreciate hearing what you think
1. Interludes: Dxun

This will be a series of unconnected interludes during and in between KOTOR I and KOTOR II. These all provide a nice brain break while I'm plotting out "What Dreams May Come". They're my interpretations of the different characters, so they may seem OOC to you... Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Oh yeah, insert standard disclaimer here... not mine, never will be, thanks for bursting that fantasy.

* * *

The fire that poured off the remains of the ship burned brighter than the neon signs at the Jekk'Jekk Tar Cantina. The group that had accidentally set off the explosion grimaced in unison and exchanged looks. 

"Well, guess that's that. Whoever's living on this rock is sure to realize that we're here. With our luck, they're not going to be friendly. I can't believe you didn't throw that grenade right." Atton Rand threw a disparaging look at Mira. "What kind of bounty hunter are you? You can't even toss a grenade."

"I'm plenty good enough with a blaster, though, Atton. Don't start on me; I'm not in the mood." Mira threateningly waved her blaster towards Atton.

"Can we all stop behaving like children? We need to find a way to fix the Hawk and get the hell out of this jungle while we still have a semi-working ship." The Exile spoke up. Her voice betrayed her exasperation with her crew.

"He started it." The Exile only rolled her eyes and walked away from the remains of the bounty hunter vessel in front of her. She was tired, bone deep tired, of being hunted as the last of the Jedi. Realistically, the Exile knew that there were other Jedi out there in the galaxy. How she got the misnomer of being the last of the Jedi, she'd never know. She had barely gotten a connection back to the Force and she'd found two Master Jedi.

As the Ebon Hawk traveled from Nar Shadaa to Onderon, the ship was attacked by Onderonian security forces. They were forced to crash land on the jungle moon, Dxun. The Hawk ended up sustaining major damage. Atton said the freighter could be fixed but it needed a few parts that the crew didn't have on hand. The ship that they had just blown up could've been scavenged for parts, but Mira's misguided grenade had just happened to hit the fuel deposit and the rest, as they say, was history, literally.

The blazing fire before the Exile warmed her up and dried her off but didn't do much for her mood. The crew was constantly battling each other. Kreia was her normal cryptic self, baiting the rest of the crew with her holier-than-thou attitude. Mira, the newest addition to the crew, was moody. Atton was pouting, a normal occurrence. Visas wasn't talking to anyone and no one trusted her anyway. Bao Dur was the only one with whom she could have a civil conversation. The Exile didn't really want to talk to Bao Dur as she was tired of discussing the Mandalorian War.

"If we had some marshmallows, we could be eating s'mores." Atton spoke up.

"Just shut up, Atton. I'm sure you're so perfect. After all, that was a wonderful landing we had. You do such a good job piloting this ship. I also hear that this isn't the first time or even the second time you've crashed a ship with this crew. That's a great track record!" Mira's voice sounded petulant and grated on the Exile's ears.

"Stop it, just stop it right now. I'm tired of this constant bickering and baiting of each other. We are a crew. Does anyone know what a crew is supposed to be? It's supposed to be a team of adults working for a common goal. Instead, what we have here is a crew of petulant children fighting with each other. You want to bicker, do it without me. I'm getting away from here before we attract too much of the local carnivorous fauna." The Exile walked off. Bao Dur shot the remaining crew a glare and followed. Kreia just smiled and made her way up the hill. Mira and Atton glared at each other.

"If you're coming, then I suggest you start walking." The Exile's voice floated down from her vantage point. Atton and Mira started up the hill.

The crew followed the path up the hill for a few kilometers. There was a clearing ahead of them. Bao Dur sent his remote to investigate and reported that there was an encampment of Mandalorians ahead. There was a scouting party mobilizing. _What else can go wrong?_ The Exile thought to herself.

She was soon to find out as the Mandalorians looked in their direction and grabbed weapons.

"We know you're there. Come on out, hands away from blasters." A mechanical voice came through the mask of one of the Mandalorians. _Of course, this is just the way my life's been since I woke up on Peragus._ The Exile rolled her eyes. The crew shared a quick glance and stepped out of their cover.

"Well, what do we have here? Mandalore will be very interested in this, boys." The mechanical voice came again. The Exile wasn't sure if the voice was the same one or not. "Come with us. You get the honor of meeting Mandalore."

The meeting with Mandalore went quickly and the crew fulfilled the status gaining objectives. Bao Dur fixed their computer based systems. Kreia, Visas and the Exile saved the hapless Mandalorian and finished off a few of the Onderonian security forces that were wandering around. The local fauna didn't stand a chance against Mira's blaster, as she had boasted earlier.

For the Exile, though, the most amusing part was the dueling rings. The muscular Mandalorians scoffed at the idea of dueling with such a slight woman. The Exile was small, even for a woman; her muscles were hidden in the voluminous Jedi robes she wore, only making her seem smaller and weaker. The first opponent was dispensed with in a matter of seconds. Clearly thinking this was a fluke, the next two opponents only took a few minutes. The Mandalorians finally took her prowess seriously and the next battle was grueling for the Exile. She was tired from the back to back fighting. Her opponent didn't pull any punches.

* * *

While the Exile was battling with through her opponents, Mira wandered the encampment. As she went past one building, she heard Kreia speaking with Mandalore. They were discussing a "she" and orders that "she" never followed up on. "She" disappeared. Mira had no idea who this she was, but figured it was bound to be useful in the future. As the conversation died, she made her way away from Kreia as quickly as possible. The old woman gave Mira the creeps. Kreia played her cards close to her chest, a trait that Mira admired. What creeped Mira out, however, was Kreia's blatant manipulation of the Exile. Mira was no innocent when it came to manipulating the Exile, after all, she did drug, kidnap and impersonate the Exile. At least, or so Mira thought, Mira didn't manipulate the Exile into feeling things towards the galaxy, the Force or her companions that she didn't want to feel. Mira let the Exile be herself. 

Mira flinched as she stepped on a random twig on the ground. The snap of the twig seemed to ricochet through the entire camp. With a quick glance around, Mira sped up her retreat. She screamed as a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" The mechanical voice came out of the red helmet that signified the Mandalorian now named Mandalore.

"Uh, yeah, I was just going to check on the Hawk." Mira's voice sounded wobbly but then she remembered the first rule of bounty hunting, act strong even if you're not. "What business is it of yours?"

"So, the little bounty hunter discovers her spine. I'm quite happy for you." Mandalore's voice was taunting.

"I've got more than enough spine to take you on." Mira mentally slapped her forehead, where the heck had those words come from? Mira had just delivered the invitation to a butt trouncing to Mandalore, the man who fought his way through the warring race of Mandalorians. How stupid and cocky could she have been?

"I'll remember that, little one. However, I don't beat up on children. When you're older, perhaps." Mandalore's barking laughter followed his derisive comment. Mira was insulted at the implication but relieved that she wouldn't have to be beaten on, either. "If you wanted to know what was being discussed, you were more than welcome to join the conversation."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was simply wandering around the camp, looking for something to do." Mira fibbed in what she thought was an assured voice.

"I thought you were on your way to the Ebon Hawk. Now, though, you say you're wandering the camp? Come, little bounty hunter, I have plenty for you to do. Someday, I may teach you how to lie successfully. It's a necessary skill in the job you've chosen." Mandalore pulled Mira along with him as he wound through the bunker he'd just exited. Eventually they made their way into a small medlab. "I hear you're quite good drugging people. I want you to mix up some sleep aids for your Exile and I to use when we go to Onderon. We're going to need them."

"Hey, I only drugged her so I could…"

"So you could collect the bounty on her head yourself. You were hoping for a raise in the amount, weren't you? Keep in mind, as much as the galaxy claims she's the last of the Jedi, she isn't. There are many others out there. Your Exile needs friends and crewmates that support her. She doesn't need someone that will sell her to the highest bidder. Get the knock out drugs ready and I'll let you out of here." Mandalore walked through the door and locked it behind him.

_Oh, you are so kidding me_. Mira thought to herself. _He'll be back. He's got to come back. This is just one big joke. Mandalore'll be back, whether he wants to be or not. The Exile or Atton or even Kreia will make him come back and let me out._

However, the time passed and Mira was still locked in the room. She'd already tried to pick the lock to get out of the room. She'd attempted to blast the lock by setting off some small explosives. However, as Atton had teased the other day, she didn't possess the skill of demolitions. All she succeeded in doing was getting herself cut up with the debris flying out of the jury-rigged explosives. Mira tried to open the air vent so that she could slip through there. The vent was tightly attached to the wall. There weren't any windows as the room where she was a prisoner was underground.

After a few hours of being trapped in the room, her confidence started waning. _Face it;_ she thought to herself, _the Exile thinks you're a spoiled brat. Atton thinks you're completely incompetent and a waste of resources. Bao Dur doesn't think about you at all. Kreia, well, who knows what that old witch thought. I'm stuck. _

"Ok, Mandalore, I'll make your damn drugs, but I'm only doing it because I'm sick of this room. You win! Get it, you win!" The screaming may not have helped her out of the room, but it did make Mira feel better.

* * *

Mandalore watched Mira through the security system installed in the bunkers. He was impressed at her creativity in ways to escape the room. When she shouted at him, he chuckled. The girl, and to Mandalore at his advanced age, _ha, advanced_, she was a girl,had a spine and gumption, he'd give her that. 

She reminded him of one of the children of his tribe when he had just been awarded his first command mission. The young girl had turned her nose up at the galaxy and basically spit in its hypothetical eye. He couldn't remember her name, but the man now known as Mandalore remembered her quivering chin when she fell out of a tree onto him. She'd climbed a good fifty feet into the air in an old tree and missed a branch. She tumbled down and literally took his breath away.

"_Just what do you think you were doing, little one?" The large square jawed man roared calmly at the young girl._

"_I'm training. Someday, I'm going to lead missions and be a brave soldier. If I'm lucky, my mama says, I'll get to conquer my own planet." The little girl's eyes stared challengingly up at the young man. "Then, when I conquer my own planet, I'll get to pick who I want to marry instead of some man picking me. If you're lucky, maybe I'll pick you to marry me." The young man laughed._

"_I'll await the day. Until then, watch your footing and make sure you have a firm grasp before you move. It's important to do prep work before committing your troops." The young man put a hand out and, when the little girl clasped her hand in his, lifted her off the ground._

"_I'll do that. Thanks! But, when I pick you to marry me, you aren't allowed any other wives!" With that, she scampered off and the man now known as Mandalore didn't see her again. _

He'd thought her dead and lost when Revan had conquered the Mandalorian people. It seemed to Mandalore that he was still playing the Force's fool. _Damn Revan anyway, what the hell was she thinking when she ordered me to wait here and gather the Mandalorians? She needs backup, no matter what she says. It can't be good that no one, not even Republic, had heard from her in almost two years. If she wasn't communicating with her lover, then she's got to be dead. So, what the hell am I doing, sitting here waiting around for her to come back and tell me what her grandiose plan is?_

Mandalore's reverie was broken by the sound of Mira crowing to herself. He couldn't help but laugh at the mess she'd made of the medlab. The mess didn't upset him as much as it should have. After all, the Mandalorians on Dxun had limited supplies and limited cash flow. The medical supplies were expensive and in high demand, even with the implants most of the Mandalorian warriors had. Mandalore noticed that Mira had done as instructed and made up the concoctions he'd requested.

He quickly made his way back down to the medlab and opened the door. The door didn't open as smoothly as earlier, probably due to the explosives, lock picking and items hurled at it. Mira didn't hear the door open; she was too busy ransacking the rest of the room.

Mandalore picked the drugs off the counter and started towards the exit. With one arm, he stopped Mira's sudden lunge for the door.

"You can clean this up. When you're done, you'll find the door is open. It will not be open until this room is spotless." He negligently thrust her back into the room and sealed the door again.

"Why me!" came her response as she kicked a canister. Mira misjudged the weight of the canister and ended up stubbing her toe.


	2. Interludes: Tatooine

"I told you to cover up."

"Do you know what the only thing more annoying than a man who says I told you so is? Do you? It's watching a room full of Gamorreans eating." The crew of the Ebon Hawk, minus Bastila, was on Tatooine. Carth, Revan and Canderous had spent the past week searching for the final Star Map.

During this time, they'd rescued quite a few Czerka employees, which rubbed Revan's sense of honor, among them, Mission's prodigal brother. Griff had turned up like a bad cred and tried to pump the group for money. Mission had put a stop to that and Griff was once more somewhere else in the galaxy. The young Twi'lek didn't seem extremely upset about it. Revan figured she'd resigned herself to being abandoned by her blood family. Carth and Revan had taken Mission, and by default Big Z, under their wings to give the girl a new family.

"Beautiful, you have such a way with words. You're going to have to stop complimenting me so much or I'm going to get a swelled head." Revan growled and swung her fist at Carth. Her arm was caught in the air by a large meaty fist and a voice echoed from behind her.

"Revan, why don't you and the Jedi contingent get the last Star Map so we can get off this wasteland?" Canderous' pragmatic voice broke in to the argument. "I'll take care of Republic here."

"Men!" Was the only response from Revan as she stormed up the boarding ramp into the Hawk. When Revan entered the Hawk she saw that the other Jedi were deep in meditation. Loath to interrupt, especially when emotions were churning through her, she made her way to the cockpit. She found Mission playing with the controls.

"I'll show you how to work it if you want." Revan spoke up. Her statement turned to laughter as Mission jumped out of the chair.

"That's ok, I'm just playing. I can fix anything but I'm not too sure on the whole piloting thing." Mission's lekku twirled around her face.

"Mission, if you can fix it, don't you think you should know how to work it? It's actually fairly easy. I'm not as good as Carth, but I know the basics. What you were playing with before is the throttle." Revan started showing Mission what lever controlled what action.

* * *

"Mandalorians, when we started our incursion into Republic space wondered at the hesitancy of the response. We attributed this fear of engagement to a survival instinct. Obviously, we were wrong." Canderous' tone was slightly conversational, as if discussing the fact that Tatooine was hot and getting hotter the further the suns rose.

"Canderous, what are you talking about?" Carth sounded perplexed.

"You keep baiting her when it is obvious she is under a great deal of stress. I'm curious as to your reasoning."

"I didn't think I was baiting. I thought I was teasing, not that it's any of your business."

"It's my business when it affects the successful completion of this mission. Revan has more than enough to face without you aggravating her. In the span of a few weeks, her identity has changed, her life has been threatened multiple times by those that profess to have feelings for her, she's watched her crewmates sacrifice themselves for her, and she's racing against time itself to save Bastila. This is in addition to coping with the daily stresses of a bickering crew, a bored Mission and Jolee's cantankerous nature."

"I…I hadn't thought of it that way. I was trying to lighten the mood. I have my own set of stress points, you know. I have to deal with all the crew issues and the fact that the woman I fell in love with is the Darth Revan, the Sith Lord that ordered the destruction of Telos and multiple other worlds. Just a few hours ago, we discovered her assassin droid. Do you realize how that makes me feel to be so boldly confronted with her past? She created an assassin droid to kill her enemies. How do I know she won't reactivate that programming?" Carth's hands drifted up and away from his body in an obvious sign of his distress.

"You have the same assurance that I do. Has Revan ever reacted in a way that would make you think that she would send an assassin after anyone?" Just as Canderous finished his words, the two men were greeted with the exhaust of the Ebon Hawk. They both turned and watched as the Hawk shakily climbed from the landing bay and wobbled its way into the air.

"What in the galaxy is going on?" Carth sounded incredulous that someone would fly his ship. It wasn't really his ship, he'd stolen it along with Revan and Canderous, so he had to share claim to it.

"You had to bait her." Canderous just laughed and walked off. "I'll be in the cantina."

* * *

Mission was in the pilot's seat during the impromptu flying lesson. She was cheering herself on as the Ebon Hawk climbed out of the landing bay and started gaining altitude, all without hitting anything.

"Ok, now ease forward." Revan's voice was patient as she talked Mission through her first maneuvers. The Hawk rocked as Mission used the yoke. At one point, Revan used the Force to get Mission to keep from pile-driving the Hawk into the ground. Other than that, though, the flying lesson went pretty well as they cruised over the desert.

"Mission, we're going to need to land over there." Revan pointed so that Mission could see the line of flight. "My information says that the last Star Map is just over that bluff."

"You don't think Carth is going to be mad that I flew the Hawk, do you?" Mission was biting her lower lip in concentration as she hesitantly sent the ship in the direction that Revan had pointed.

"If he is, well, he deserves it. I only wish I could have seen his face as we took off." Mission and Revan started laughing at the mental images their imaginations conjured. "Mission, concentrate!" The Hawk bumped a sand dune as Mission landed. The landing was rough but at least the Hawk was still in one piece. From the back, Mission and Revan could hear Zaalbar roaring his disapproval of the landing.

Juhani poked her head into the cockpit. She laughed when she saw that it was Mission at the controls and left. Mission and Revan joined the others in the common area of the Hawk.

"Well, folks, how'd I do? Did I do good?" Zaalbar muttered under his breath. Juhani smiled and nodded.

"Where'd you learn to pilot, girl? Why, I knew this fellow, by the name of Horace, that flew better than you. He only had one arm, mind you but when he needed an extra hand, heh heh, he'd use his teeth. There was this one flight…" Revan interrupted Jolee's wandering story.

"Jolee, you're making this up and you know it. Just tell Mission what a wonderful job she did on her first flight ever." Revan patted Mission on the back as they laughed together.

"Why didn't you warn us that Mission was learning to fly? I woulda buckled myself in proper instead of using the Force to hold me steady." Jolee's voice sounded crankier than normal. However, Revan caught the twinkle in the old man's eye.

"I thought it'd be more adventurous this way."

"Well, for a first timer, you did a good job." Mission beamed. "But then again, what do I know? I'm just an old hermit that hasn't flown in Force knows how long." Mission's smile faded.

"I hate you, old man." Mission stuck her tongue out at him as she flounced to the women's quarters.

"Now see what you did? She did great for a first time." Revan was quick to follow.

"Why didn't Carth fly us?" Jolee asked as Revan reached the doorway leading out. Revan turned, with a huge self-satisfied smile on her face.

"He was busy with Canderous."


	3. Interludes: Tattoos

"Malak, could you please stop being such a baby. Father did it, Grandfather did it and I'm sure that Great-Grandfather did it. It's your turn." Revan turned towards her little brother. In all actuality, Malak might be her younger brother but he was no longer her little brother. Instead, Malak had gained height and muscle while Revan performed her Jedi Knight duties and he finished his trials. Her baby brother now towered over her by almost two feet and had at least a fifty pound advantage, all in muscle.

Now that Malak had achieved the rank of Jedi Knight, it was time for his coming of age. Normally, the men of their family and culture would take Malak for this important event. However, their family was on a far distant planet far from their own culture. It was left to Revan to guide Malak into a male adulthood.

Revan didn't mind fulfilling the masculine role. After all, there were times that those who knew Revan swore she was a man, in her demeanor and her habits. She didn't mince words, didn't shy away from a fight and was more than willing to confront an issue head-on. When there was mischief afoot in the Temple, even now that she was a Jedi Knight and away from it for weeks and months at a time, the Masters still looked to see if she was involved.

The coming of age started with the continuation of the tattoos that marked their sect of society. Malak, when he was born, had been graced with twin dots around his "third eye". As he achieved higher and higher ranks, those dots had expanded to include the twin lines that now raced across his forehead. With the achievement of his most recent rank, Malak's lines would now expand across his head to the back of his neck. As he gained further recognition and honor, those marks would eventually reach down to the small of his back. Very few in their culture ever reached that far.

However, Malak was not excited to be honored with these lines. The pain was excruciating, especially done in the traditional ways. Malak was forbidden, by honor, to use the Force to alleviate his pain as he was permanently marked. Although he was loath to admit it, Revan knew that he feared passing out from the pain and dishonoring both himself and his family.

"Revan, this is an archaic honor code. There is no law saying we have to continue its existence." Malak hated the slight whine in his voice; he'd wanted a superior tone so that he could finally win in a battle of words with Revan. He should have known better, no one bested Revan in logic or verbal combat.

"You will look like a child in the eyes of our parents for the rest of your life if you don't at least finish the adult tattoo. There's no reason that you need to have the tattoos that declare your manly escapades." Revan winked and laughed at her choice of words. "However, you do need to finish this. Come on, they're waiting for us." Revan tugged on Malak's hand but it was to no avail. Her brother didn't budge.

"We're Jedi, now. We don't need these small tribal markings to proclaim ourselves. Mother and Father need to evolve into the Republic. We're not on some planet not even acknowledged by the Republic anymore. We're citizens of the Republic, guardians of peace for the galaxy. I don't need to declare the fact that I'm an adult, my Jedi robes do that for me."

"Do you want to sit at the child table when we go home for a visit? Do you want Father to greet you as a child? What about Uncle? Face it, brother mine, the culture is not going to evolve. Our parents are not going to evolve. You owe them this, Malak. Conquer your fear and let's get this over with." Malak wasn't swayed by Revan's logic.

"I am not afraid."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You've made my point, Malak. You're arguing like we're still children. I've had my coming of age; it's your turn now. Be a man and face it. I can just hear the rumors now, I'm more of a man than you." Revan gave another tug on Malak's hand as she tried to maneuver him into the shop.

"No one will know if you don't tell them, Revan."

"Who says I have to keep my mouth shut?" In a singsong voice, Revan started chanting, "Malak's a baby. Malak's a baby." To shut her up and because he did recognize the fact that he was allowing his fear to rule him, Malak went into the tattoo shop.

"Hey, Nien! Malak's finally decided to finish his markings." Malak shot a glare at his sister as she conversed about him to the Sullustan behind the counter.

"I am honored you have returned, Jedi Malak! It is a great honor to have my work portrayed so well in the galaxy. You do me honor!" Nien chattered in his native language. "Come, come, we will get started right away. Most people have these painted on or lasered. I am honored you allow me the honor to do this in the ancient method."

The Sullustan gathered the tattooing tools, or in Malak's mind, the implements of torture. Although their cultural tradition called for no aids in alleviating the pain while tattooing, Malak soothed himself with the Force before the process started. He could feel Revan sending calming thoughts towards him.

Malak stripped his robes off and the undershirt, leaving him in just his pants. He chuckled when Revan let out a catcall and a whistle. She could always calm him with her irreverent sense of humor. Not only was he calmer, he wasn't concentrating on the pain to come.

The first tapping of the tattoo needle drilled itself into his scalp. He could feel the thousands of pinpricks as Nien started detailing the straight lines away from his forehead. They'd barely started and Malak was ready to pass out from the pain. The needle felt like it was continuously jabbing into bone as the dark lines slowly progressed.

As the tattooing progressed, Malak knew he was supposed to be contemplating what it meant to finally be a man. The first thought that popped into his head was an almost sacrilegious thought. He was going to miss his hair. Before his trials, he'd even grown it out some. He'd loved how he looked with the small ponytail at the back of his neck.

Now, due to the culture that he was born into, he was stuck being bald for the rest of his existence. His tattoos were the only adornment he was allowed. He was not allowed any hair, any jewelry or piercings that did not show his rank in his culture.

As he was contemplating the loss of his hair, Malak forgot about the sting of the needle. He didn't hear Nien chattering at him. He'd unconsciously entered a deep meditation. He could feel his consciousness floating as he saw the vision of his future.

_Revan swept into the large deck of the battle station he was standing in. Her twin lightsabers, flaring a bright cyan, challenged him. Arrogantly believing that size equated strength, Malak beckoned his sister forward._

_The two exchanged words and then there was the clash of blades. Malak felt his blade make contact with first Revan's hip and then her thigh. She limped as she used her Force-speed power to get away from him. He taunted her as she ran. While she paused, he refueled himself. Revan had no such power. _

_As she panted for breath, he ran to the upper deck. He showed her the truth of what they both had become. He laughed as horror spread across her face. They exchanged more words as they fought. Malak could sense Revan's weakening. As he stood on the upper deck, Revan ran to the lower deck. He watched her and taunted her as emotions raced across her face. She was weakening even further._

_Malak sensed his opportunity and pushed his advantage. Revan was pleading with him but the words didn't reach him. Lightsabers flared and the crackle of the interactions filled the deck. With a deft twist of a wrist, Malak swept away one of Revan's blades. _

_She was now faced with fighting him with only one remaining lightsaber. The advantage was completely Malak's as Revan very rarely fought with only one blade. She was off-balance, tired, hurt and weak. Her Force powers were drained. _

Finally_, he crowed to himself, _finally I have her where I've wanted her all these years! The circle is now complete, I am the Master._ Malak swung his lightsaber once more and smiled as the blade sliced through his sister._

With a start, Malak realized that Nien was no longer impaling him with the needles. Instead, both Nien and Revan were regarding him strangely. Briefly, Malak wondered how long he'd been lost in the vision of his murder of his sister.

"Malak, are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost." Revan's voice was concerned. "What vision did you have? Will you be a great Jedi Knight or what?"

"Vision? What vision?" Malak tried to play off his stupor.

"Malak, you were supposed to have a vision. I had one. Now, I want to know yours. Come on, share, already!" Revan's voice was losing its care and compassion and was starting to sound impatient.

"It was nothing. I know it will never happen. I won't let it." With that, Malak put on his shirt and robes and the two left the tattoo shop, arm in arm.


	4. Interludes: A Bedtime Story

Mission lay facedown on the bunk she'd picked out in the Ebon Hawk. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed out her grief. Her breath came sporadically as she tried to muffle the sound of her tears into the hard pillow. The young Twi'lek wasn't cognizant of her surroundings as she cried out her grief. All that Mission could concentrate on was the pain she felt at watching Taris bombed into the ground. Her emotions were a jumble as she felt guilty at surviving yet happy that she survived. She thought of all the people that she actually liked that were on Taris when it was bombed. With luck, some of the Hidden Beks made it through, they'd always been nice to her.

She jumped when she felt a light touch of someone's hand on her shoulder. It rubbed small circles and Mission found it oddly comforting but she didn't want anyone to think she was a baby. She could take care of herself, darn it.

"Leave me alone!" With an angry swipe across her face, she turned over and shoved the hand away from her. She was slightly relieved to find out it was only Adrine, her rescuer from the destruction of Taris. Mission wanted to use the word "friend" to describe her, but she didn't trust easily. Life hadn't been easy since Griff had left her alone on the streets of Taris. As much as she hated to admit it, the only reason she wasn't a dancing slave girl was because of Big Z. With luck, she thought to herself, Adrine would be another friend she could rely on, unlike her lousy no-good brother and his conniving no-good girlfriend, Lena.

"I'm not going to do that, Mission. You just watched your home's destruction. I don't know how you feel since I haven't experienced it. All that I do know is that you need a shoulder to cry on, not this pillow." Adrine picked up the pillow in question and tossed it towards the back of the bunk. "I'd like to be that shoulder, Mission." Adrine's voice was soft and comforting, as if she were talking to a small child.

"I'm not a kid! I don't need anyone! It's just me and Big Z and we like it like that. You may have gotten us off that rock, but don't think you're my friend!" Mission grabbed the pillow and hugged it to her chest as she sat up.

"Did I say you were a kid?" Mission sat with her head down and shook her head negatively. Her lekku shrank back defensively. "Don't go putting words in my mouth, Mission. After all we've been through, I thought we were friends. I know that you're in pain and as your friend, I want to help." Adrine reached over and put an arm around Mission's shoulders gently. "You can talk to me, you know."

"I, just, I didn't think it would hurt like this. Taris stunk and I didn't like it there. I guess I liked it more than I thought I did." Mission leaned into Adrine and wrapped her arms around Adrine's waist. Adrine felt Mission's lekku drift towards her.

"It was your home, Mission. Love it or hate it, it was still home. It hurts to watch your homeworld get destroyed. You probably feel guilty for surviving when so many didn't. It's natural to feel that way. Cry all you want, no one's going to think you're a kid or a baby for crying over Taris. I'm sure Carth cried when Telos was destroyed. If you want, I could go get him so he could talk to you, one survivor to another."

"Naw, that's ok, I think I just want to go to bed." Mission's actions belied her words as she snuggled deeper into the comforting warmth of her new friend. It was nice to be held this way and Mission really hoped that Adrine didn't leave anytime soon.

"You want me to stay until you fall asleep?" Mission nodded a shaky "yes" against Adrine's side. "Want me to tell you a story?" Mission nodded another shaky "yes".

"Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess named Leia."

"Does it have to be a princess? Princesses are dumb. They just sit around and rule all the time. This isn't going to be one of those falling in love stories, is it?"

"No, Mission, this is going to be one of those adventure stories. This princess got to go around the galaxy fighting bad guys. Let me tell the story."

"Fine, but make it good." Adrine rolled her eyes as Mission curled up on the abused pillow.

"Anyway, so there was this beautiful princess named Leia. She was the princess of a beautiful and peaceful planet. The galaxy itself was a mess because there was an evil ruler of the galaxy. This evil ruler was a Sith Lord."

"Was it Malak? That guy's a jerk. I could see him making the galaxy a mess since he's already done so much here." Mission curled her body closer to Adrine's. The room wasn't cold but Mission wanted to be closer to the comforting warmth of another person.

"Mission, I thought you were going to sleep. It wasn't Malak, remember, this is just a story, a fairy tale."

"Can we make it be Malak and have someone kick his butt?" Adrine chuckled.

"Sure, if you want. So, anyway, there was this Sith Lord named Malak ruling this galaxy. He wasn't a nice guy and the people in the galaxy staged a rebellion. Our Princess Leia decided to join the rebellion, since she really didn't like Malak."

"At least she isn't sitting around waiting for someone to rescue her like a lot of the dumb stories about dumb princesses." Adrine chuckled again and started rubbing small circles on Mission's shoulder.

"Leia didn't believe in sitting back and waiting for rescue. So, Malak finds out that Leia is part of the rebellion and he captures her. While he has her held hostage, he tries to get locations of rebel bases out of her. He wanted to wipe out the rebellion completely."

"Did he torture her? I bet he did. Sith are all jerks."

"He did try to torture her but she was a strong person and refused to give in. Malak decided that he needed to do something bigger and more evil so he flew this huge space station to her peaceful home planet. He pointed all the weapons at it and threatened to blow it up."

"You mean like he did to Taris?"

"This isn't the same Malak, remember? It was even worse than he did to Taris because he threatened to completely obliterate the planet. He had enough firepower to do it too, that's how evil this guy was."

"So he's worse than Malak? I'm really glad I'm not a Sith."

"Mission, we're all glad you're not a Sith. Continuing the story though, Leia had to decide between her homeworld and all the people on it or the rebellion. However, our heroine is one smart cookie so she decides to tell the evil Sith Lord the name of a planet that the rebels had been on a long time ago. It was completely deserted, so no one would be hurt by Malak. Malak decides that he's going to blow up her planet anyway. Leia is forced to watch all those people she knew and loved get killed. She is really upset, I'm sure you can figure out how she feels." Mission nodded her head while her lekku moved uncomfortably on the bed.

"While she's so upset, there was, in another part of the galaxy, a young farm boy who dreamed of joining the rebellion. His name was Luke Starkiller."

"Is she going to be rescued by him and fall in love? Cause you told me that that wasn't going to happen." Adrine ignored Mission and continued on with the story.

"So, Luke finds something that the rebellion must have and he sets off to find them. Along the way, he's joined by a Jedi Master named Ben."

"This Jedi guy isn't a jerk like Bastila, is he?"

"Bastila isn't a jerk, Mission."

"Yes, she is. She yells at me and treats me like a kid. She's mean. She told Big Z that he stank. That wasn't nice. He may smell but you shouldn't be so mean about it."

"Maybe Bastila is just upset about being captured and held hostage."

"Was Leia mean to all the people that rescued her?"

"We haven't gotten there yet but no, she wasn't terribly mean to all of them."

"See, Bastila is a jerk."

"Bastila isn't a jerk, Mission. Give her a chance. Back to our story, Luke is joined by Ben and they get passage on a ship piloted by a guy named Han and his Wookiee friend Chewbacca."

"About time there was a Wookiee in the story. Are there any Twi'leks in this story? Cause if they're all dancing girls, then I don't want them in there."

"Got it, no dancing girls. So, Chewbacca and Han fly to this blown-up planet cause they have to return this stuff to Leia and get captured by Malak, instead."

"Not a very good rescue, was it?"

"It's all part of the master plan, Mission. Patience is a virtue here, let me finish the story. So, Luke, Ben, Han and Chewbacca find Leia and rescue her. Malak finds out and tries to stop them. Ben, being the good Jedi he is, sacrifices himself for all of them and they go speeding away from the space station.

"Luke finally gets a chance to return what he found to the rebellion. They all decide to attack this space station so no more planets get blown up."

"Are you serious? Isn't that kinda dumb? I mean, if it can blow up a planet, how are they going to beat it? I bet they all die, don't they?"

"I'm getting there, Mission. Luke flies this one-man fighter and he's juking and moving. He avoids getting hit by all kinds of enemy ships and all the turbolasers. He's backed by a couple friends of his and they go into this trench."

"Why would they be in a trench?"

"In this trench is this vent and if they can get a bomb into it, they can blow it up. See, Malak's ego is so big, he thinks no one can beat him. This space station is so big that he thinks no one can attack it. Instead, these rebels find where one person can defeat this entire station with only one gesture. So, Luke gets a bomb into the vent and blows up the space station. Unfortunately, the evil Sith Lord Malak wasn't on the station at the time."

"Then what happens to him? When does someone finally kick his butt?"

"In another part of the story that I'll tell you some other time. That's enough for now, Mission. Go to sleep. I'll be here until drift off."

"K." Mission's voice was slurry as she started to drift off. "Adrine?"

"Yes, Mission?"

"I'm sorry that I said we weren't friends and I was mean."

"It's ok, Mission. You're hurting, I understand."

"Thanks for the story, Adrine. I'm glad that the princess didn't fall in love with Luke or anyone. It's dumb to have someone fall in love with someone just cause they rescue you. You don't see me drooling over that geezer, Carth." Adrine laughed.

"He's not that old, Mission."

"Oh, c'mon, he may be cute but he's ancient. I don't see you falling in love with him because he saved you."

"Carth didn't save me, we saved each other." Adrine was surprised to feel a little upset at Mission's statement. She didn't know if it was because it implied that she couldn't rescue herself or because she really was falling for Carth.

Mission just smiled a drowsy smile and drifted off to sleep. As she slipped away into a dream, she stuck her fist next to her face. Adrine watched Mission's thumb drift towards her mouth as she rose from the bunk. She couldn't control the little jump as she saw Carth standing in the door. He only smiled and walked off.


	5. Interludes: Harbinger

The floor was cold inside the containment field. The prison was large enough for the human trapped within it to lay down but not large enough for her to lie comfortably. She slept restlessly and woke every time her body connected with the field. A shift of the foot and pain lanced up her leg, a shift of an arm and her hand went numb. Her hair, once long even in its topknot, was now a mess of burnt ends from its contact with the force field around her.

Qatya was in pain, not just from the effects of the cell, but also from the torture to which her Sith captors subjected her. Her captors did not believe that she was no longer a Jedi, no longer able to feel the Force. It has been years since she was exiled from the only family she'd ever known. As far as the Republic was concerned, she was nameless; she was the Exile.

Her spirit was not broken yet, although she'd been within the not-so-gentle clutches of the Sith for over two standard weeks. She'd been subjected to mind-numbing drugs to see if she would give any of the secrets of the Jedi while under the influence. She'd also been Force choked until she passed out, Force wounded until she thought her bones would pop out of her body irregardless of the skin and muscle covering them and burnt with lightsabers over nerve-heavy areas of her body.

All this torture, however, just fueled Qatya's resistance to their questioning. She tried as best she could to turn the pain inwards and use it to block their forays into her mind. Qatya concentrated on the pain, not on the past she wanted to forget or the hope for a future. There was more than enough pain for Qatya to use.

At this moment, though, Qatya was not thinking about the pain. Instead, she was cursing quite fluently in a myriad of languages. The target of her ire was her captors and her own part in getting captured.

"Stupid idiot", she muttered, "you just had to trust Weendu. Weendu won't betray you, yeah right. Weendu has a can't-be-beat delivery, yeah. Weendu is an honest guy, you can trust him. I am such an idiot. Why would I trust a glitter biter? Sithspit, all they had to offer him was some spice and he would've rolled over on his mother, let alone one of his smugglers." With an irritated huff, Qatya turned onto her back and looked up at the top of the cell. To keep her muscles from atrophying, she started to kick them in circles towards the ceiling.

"This deal just can't be beat. With the amount of money Weendu is paying you, you can afford the possibility of discovery that you're heading into Republic space. It's been so long since you've been there, the Jedi have probably forgotten about you. Besides, Malak was killed years ago, so it's not like there are any Sith out there that would remember you from your war days. What a line of crap, Qatya, did you really believe that? This is what you get for trusting someone." After muttering the last line, the doors to the cellblock opened and a Sith soldier stepped through into the room.

"Your food is here. Don't try anything stupid or I'll have to take care of you." He smiled as he spoke the last. Qatya could tell he looked forward to "taking care of her". His specialty was the use of drugs and Qatya could attest to the fact that he was good at his job.

The food looked disgusting. It was a runny sludge that couldn't possibly be edible. Qatya refused the food with a shake of her head. She hadn't eaten in a week, ever since they'd switched her rations to this sludge. The soldier left it on the floor outside her cell and walked away.

"Ugh, how they expect me to eat that crap, I'll never understand. Man, I'm rank smelling. I know I'm a prisoner and all but the least they could offer me is a shower or something. I can't be too pleasant to torture, after all, what with this smell."

Qatya stood up and started to stretch. She needed to be in shape for her escape, whenever the chance came. Her ship, a small Corellian freighter named the Expatriation in acknowledgement of her status, had been destroyed when she was captured. She felt a bit of pain for the loss of the ship. That ship had been with her ever since she was exiled from the Jedi. It had carried her throughout the Outer Rim and a little beyond it. She'd seen worlds that didn't have names, smuggled goods that the Republic had never seen and interacted with aliens that had barely heard of Basic, let alone spoke it.

As she bent down and folded her hands under her feet, her cell was rocked back and forth. The ship quickly shook again, almost as if it were under attack. The sound of running feet could be heard outside the cell as Qatya tried to find a place to brace herself from flying into the painful barriers. She'd never missed the Force as much as she did right now.

The lights flickered off. For a brief second, the force field shorted out. Qatya took advantage of her opportunity and leaped out of the cell. She landed well away from the dish of slop sliding from side to side across the floor. The lights flickered back on and Qatya punched in the code she'd memorized from her guards' exit from the room.

The door slid open, thankfully the hallway was empty. Qatya did not waste any time racing down the hallway looking for a shaft leading to the landing bay. With luck, she'd be able to steal a ship of some sort and get out of here alive and without detection. As she escaped, she had to balance stealth with speed, a daunting prospect with the wounds that were scattered across her body.

With a start, Qatya realized that she was still in her skivvies as she ran. This brought a smile to her face and a chuckle escaped. With her burnt hair, oozing wounds all over her body and charred skin, she was not looking her best.

The lights flickered again as the auxiliary power kicked in, leaving Qatya momentarily disoriented. She blinked quickly and ran on, further into the Sith ship. Her luck ran out as she came to a busy intersection of soldiers.

Qatya reached down to take her vibroblades by route. With a sigh and a disgruntled push at the hair that slipped out of her topknot, she ducked into a room. The sound of the door must have been louder than she thought as soldiers burst into the room. Qatya froze in the center of the room.

"What is this? Who are you?" The soldier addressing her must not have been down to the prisoner area.

"I'm the new Sith leader and I'm taking control of this ship, hand over your weapons and kneel in front of me." Her Jedi Masters had always said her mouth was going to get her in trouble one day, it was nice that she was still proving them right after all these years.

"You are the Jedi prisoner! Men, get her!" Qatya looked around for something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes alighted on a small sculpture sitting on the edge of the desk beside her. With a quick snap of her arm, she threw the sculpture at the soldier closest to her. After a satisfying clang against the helmet, the poor piece of artwork dropped to the floor. The soldier quickly followed suit.

Qatya grabbed his blade and turned towards the rest of the closing Sith. She parried and thrust to the best of her abilities. Unfortunately, the lack of nourishment and movement, in addition to her injuries, hindered her and she was eventually over-powered. The blade was knocked out her hand.

With cruel eagerness, the soldiers twisted her arms behind her and kicked her legs out from under her. She hit the ground hard with her knees. She did not stay in that position for long, however, as her head was pushed to the ground. A booted foot stepped on her neck and held her in position.

"A surprisingly good escape attempt for a Jedi, I applaud your fortitude." A smirking voice from above addressed her.

"When are you idiots going to listen to me? I'm not a Jedi! I haven't been for years. Does no one here understand the concept of exile?" The foot pressed harder into her neck and her words were cut off due to lack of oxygen.

"I doubt the veracity of your words. I'd love to stay here and verbally spar with you, but we are under attack and I must see to the battle. You two, stay with her. If she escapes, you will find yourself in a torture field beside her." The boots in front of Qatya's face snap-turned away from her and disappeared from sight. The door hissed open and shut.

"So, guys, what's going on out there? Who's attacking us?"

"Shut up, Jedi." Qatya rolled her eyes. She stayed on the ground, with a boot on her neck for what seemed to be an eternity. The sounds of blaster fire in the hallway outside the room brought her newest set of captors to alert. The boot lessened the pressure on her neck as the duo pulled their blasters out and stood ready.

When the door slid open, she couldn't help but flinch as blaster fire was exchanged and voices shouted. When a heavy body fell on her, Qatya sighed. A second body soon followed and Qatya felt a spray of blood across her face.

"This is really not my day, my week or my month, is it? All for a stupid load for that slimeball Weendu. Never again, Qatya, never again will I trust a glit biter."

"Is there someone under there? Ma'am?" A voice called out in Basic. The voice sounded concerned but wary.

"Yeah, just me, stuck under these bodies. You guys aren't going to torture me too, are you?" The weight of the bodies on her back lessened and Qatya was helped to her feet. She blushed as she saw the group of soldiers in Republic gear standing in front of her. She was still dressed only in her skivvies.

"We're taking you to the Harbinger. Don't try anything." Qatya nodded her acquiescence and marched with the soldiers surrounding her. The sounds of blaster fire still occasionally rang out from somewhere in the ship. Resistance to the Republic forces was slowly being diminished.

All too soon, Qatya saw the inside of yet another force cage. This one had a warmer floor than the other one. Qatya sat down and waited for someone to come interrogate her. It'd been years since she'd been in Republic space and she wasn't sure what to expect. When she'd left, the Republic had just finished the war with the Mandalorians. The soldiers she'd commanded and the galaxy she knew had changed, in part due to her old compatriots Revan and Malak. She'd heard through the galactic rumor mill that Malak had been killed by Revan but the rumor mill was low on information regarding Revan.

A man in a crisp uniform stepped into the room. The field around Qatya turned off as he keyed in a command on the control console.

"I apologize for the care you have received so far while with the Republic forces. We cannot be too sure of the Sith. They have attempted to trick us with false captives previously and we weren't sure if you were truly a captive of the Sith or not."

"What makes you so sure I'm not a Sith here to infiltrate your group?" Qatya could not resist asking the question.

"We've retrieved the holovids of your, err, questioning at the hands of the Sith, Master Jedi."

"I'm not a Jedi."

"Sure, I understand completely. We have clothing for you. It should be delivered shortly. Would you care for food or drink?" Qatya nodded and the man issued an order through his comlink.

The door slid open and an odd looking protocol droid bearing a box with a tray of food on top entered.

"Statement: These garments should fit you." Qatya nodded her thanks. She quickly pulled on the tunic and pants from the box. The clothes were a little baggy but considering that she had nothing to her name right now, she'd take what she could get.

The food looked normal. It wasn't the runny sludge that portrayed itself as food on the Sith ship. Instead, it was normal military rations. Qatya quickly downed the tray and drank the entire liter of water. The man in uniform, as he had yet to give Qatya his name, looked on with a bemused expression on his face.

"Would you care for more? We would be happy to provide it for you." Qatya smiled and nodded.

"I haven't eaten in a week, or at least I think it was a week. It could have been more, it could have been less." The man nodded his understanding. He issued another order on his comlink. The same droid shortly entered with another tray of food.

"Statement: Your wounds look like the pain you.

"Concerned Query: Shall I arrange for treatment?" The protocol droid addressed his query to the man in uniform. He shook his head.

"I have a few questions first." The droid left the room. Qatya was again left with the man. She devoured the second tray of food and finally felt like she had energy to deal with the fiasco her life had become.

"Master Jed… err, Ma'am, what were you doing onboard the Sith Interdictor?"

"I was a prisoner. I was transporting some goods for an ex-friend of mine and the Interdictor" Qatya looked to the man and he nodded. "the Interdictor pulled me out of hyperspace. My ship was destroyed during my attempt to escape. I've spent about two weeks getting tortured and questioned by the Sith. Am I now to be tortured and questioned by the Republic? Things have changed, haven't they?"

"We would not torture one such as yourself." The man gave a benign smile. "I've been remiss in my manners. I am Commander Hardo Trask. I am with the Republic military as an Intelligence Officer. You are?"

"I am Exile." It still hurt to call herself that. As part of her exile from the Jedi, she lost the right to her name, her previous identity and the Force.

"Your name is Exile? I find that hard to believe." The man scratched his chin as he contemplated her response.

"I have no other name, not in Republic space. I am Exile." The knife in her heart twisted a little deeper. She still had not accepted the fact that the Council had forced her out of the ranks of the Jedi for going where she thought the Force wished her.

"Exile, do you know why the Sith captured you?"

"Commander, I have no idea. I'm a transporter of goods. I'm no one special. I haven't even been in Republic space in years."

"I shall leave it to the Admiral to explain to you." The man's wrist unit beeped and he excused himself from the room. Qatya stood and started to pace the area. Her burns itched. Without thinking, she scratched at one of them. With a hiss of pain, she yanked her hand away from the now intensely throbbing flesh on her upper arm. The man came back in and smiled at her.

"We have open quarters in the officer's wing. I will escort you to your room. Please, come with me." Commander Trask beckoned the Exile out of the room as he led the way through the maze of corridors. Qatya could feel the hum of the hyperdrive underneath her feet as they walked.

Finally, after Qatya was completely lost, they stopped in front of a room almost at the end of the corridor. The door glided open and the two walked into a comfortably sized room. In addition to the bed, there were a few footlockers and some chairs and tables in the seating area.

"The men, after finishing off the resistance on the Interdictor, found some items they suspect belong to you. They've taken the liberty of stowing the gear in that footlocker." Commander Trask gestured at the far footlocker. "I hope that you will be comfortable here. Some of your wounds look quite serious. If you will excuse me, I'll arrange for medical treatment for your wounds."

"Thank you, Commander." She couldn't stop the smart salute as the officer exited the room. He threw a startled look at her as he left. She sneered at herself.

"Couldn't help the military gestures, could you? You're not commanding people any longer, you idiot. Stop giving clues away. Great, now I'm talking to myself. I'd really prefer some intelligent conversation." The last made her laugh as she explored the room. She sat on the bed and gave it an experimental bounce. It was quite comfortable, especially compared to the cold hard floor she'd been sleeping on previously.

She found the chairs equally as comfortable as the bed. She grimaced as she looked in the mirror on the wall. Her face was covered in scabs and burns. Her topknot had fallen to the side and hair was quickly escaping. Her arms, what she could see of them outside of the tunic, were covered in burns also. Qatya sniffed the air. _Yep, I'm rank_, she thought to herself.

With a slight hesitancy to her steps, Qatya walked over to the footlocker. When she opened it, she was surprised to see her beloved armband nestled on top of her ruined clothing. The armband had been a gift from Revan for her valor in battle.

Without Qatya's brilliant strategies, the first battle of the war would have been lost. Dxun was a hard fought moon that had cost too many men and women their lives. Qatya dragged her thoughts away from the dour memories best forgotten and dug deeper in the box. She didn't find much else of interest.

She hissed in pain as she attempted to put on the armband. It was too tight, too close to the cuts, bruises and burns that decorated her entire body.

The door beeped a warning. As it slid open, it revealed the same protocol droid that had delivered her meals. It gave her a datapad.

"Statement: Here are the instructions for your medical treatment. Please be prompt." The droid gave her an odd look and left. Qatya looked at the datapad and then tossed it into the footlocker before closing the lid. The datapad instructed her to report for a tank dunking to heal all her wounds. She hated the taste that the tank left in her mouth, but it was the only way to truly heal all the damage from her "questioning sessions" with the Sith.

The medical bay was clean and the officer in charge was friendly. The same protocol droid was standing nearby as she disrobed.

"You sure get around, don't you?" Qatya tried to be friendly with the droid.

"Condescending Statement: I am only where I've been instructed to be." Qatya rolled her eyes and climbed into the tank. The medical officer keyed in a command into the console. The tank filled with the healing fluid. It tasted a little funny in Qatya's mouth. That was the last cognizant thought for Qatya as the poison took effect.

* * *

A/N: Just my interpretation of how Exile ended up on the Harbinger. Like it, don't like it... let me know. 


	6. A Bedtime Story for Revan

It was all over. Finally, some would say. Others would breathe a sigh of relief and thank the Force. There were those that were defeated that would curse the crew of the Ebon Hawk and vow revenge. In the end though, only one thing remained, it was all over.

The Star Forge, that immense factory of death, powered by the unending death of Jedi, was destroyed. The combined power of capital ships from the Republic and a small Jedi strike team destroyed it, one from the outside and the other from the inside.

The strike team had made its way through the Star Forge, losing members along the way, until there was only the crew from the Ebon Hawk left. When we confronted Bastila, the strike team was left with only one member, me. The former Dark Lord of the Sith turned Jedi, Revan. I went into the control room fully intent on being the only one to come out alive. Malak was an evil entity, he'd destroyed too many worlds and it was time that he was destroyed by the same power that allowed him to perform such wholesale slaughter.

Little did I know that when I got into the room, I'd have a life-shattering, no, that's wrong. It was a destiny shattering revelation. Malak wasn't just the Dark Lord of the Sith, he wasn't just my former apprentice; Malak was my brother. He had followed me down the dark path because of his devotion to me as his older sister. He had trusted me to not lead him astray.

With this revelation, I went from trying to kill him to trying to save him. I wanted to save him from the path we'd both walked at one time. Salvation wasn't to be and with one small misjudgment, I ended my brother's life. I was covered in his blood and mine when Carth found us.

When he reached me in that control room, I was rocking the dead body back and forth. I cradled Malak's head gently in my lap, humming and singing broken snatches of lullabies little remembered from childhood. I was singing to my baby brother, not the Dark Lord. That's not how it looked to the man who'd come to mean so much to me. Carth interpreted the soundless tears streaming down my face to reflect my grief towards killing my former apprentice. I wasn't given the opportunity to explain. The Star Forge was about to be destroyed and I had a promise to keep. Carth helped me drag Malak's lifeless shell back to the Hawk. I knew he didn't understand.

So embittered was Carth that he didn't come to the pyre to support me as I burnt the body of my brother. The tears dried up as the grief firmly took hold of me. They refused to fall any more and I was stuck with this huge knot of grief and guilt in my gut and heart. Carth didn't understand; he wouldn't understand. Adding to my twin burdens of grief and guilt, I couldn't make him understand. Just like when I was revealed as the former Darth Revan, the rest of the crew supported me as Carth mistrusted. Just as before, we talked and worked things out to a truce. Whether we would ever be allowed true happiness built on trust, I wasn't sure.

I kept reviewing the recent past as I lay ensconced in his arms. Carth was in all of my true memories. Over the course of the past month or so, as we traveled from Manaan to the Star Forge system and all throughout the adventures with the Rakatan people, I'd slept in his arms. Spending the night alone last night was torturous to me; I hadn't slept and instead spent the time pacing. I wanted to go to him; I didn't want to go to him. My heart pulled me towards him; my pride kept me where I was.

When we both caved, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. When he promised me that we'd let tomorrow take care of itself, I breathed easier than I had since "The Revelation". I was afraid of tomorrow and what it would bring. Reality was coming with the morning and I didn't want to waste my last few minutes asleep.

"Beautiful, I can hear you thinking. What's going on in that overactive brain of yours?" Carth's voice whispered into my ear. His breath ruffled my hair, tickling my neck.

"I'm just thinking." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. If I told him what I was thinking, I'd break the truce.

"What are you thinking about? You can tell me." Carth's arms tightened around me.

"Are you sure? It's a subject that will upset you."

"Lay it on me, beautiful, I'm a big boy, I can deal with it." I gave a mental snort on that one. I might feel guilty for forcing Carth to drag his enemy's dead body through a doomed space station, but I wasn't a complete idiot. Carth hadn't dealt with any revelations regarding Malak well. I doubted he'd deal with this well either. However, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm thinking about Malak and whether I could have saved him. I know he was evil but at the end, he looked like a lost little boy. The world he knew was yanked out from under him at the end."

"He chose his own path. He didn't have to follow you down the dark path. He chose to. He chose to betray you and become the Dark Lord. You didn't choose that. Don't blame yourself for his choices. He had free will, just like you do." I snuggled even deeper into his arms.

"I can't sleep." I hated that it came out sounding needy. I was a Jedi, for Force sake. I shouldn't need a bedtime story like Mission needed after the destruction of Taris. However, almost like Taris and Mission, I too had my world destroyed. My world, though, was figurative instead of literal. The final truth I thought I'd known had been proven false. I killed the last of my family to discover it.

"Want a story?" I nodded. "K, beautiful, I'll finish the story."

"What story?"

"The one you started with Mission. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Leia. She'd led the rebellion that had destroyed the evil Darth Malak's planet destroying weapon with the help of her friends; Luke, Han and I can't remember the name of the Wookiee. Mission wouldn't be happy with me. I'm forgetting the most important character of the story." I gave a watery sort of laugh. I'd teared up when Carth referred to Malak as evil. Sure, in the story I'd started, Malak was an evil guy. Now, though, I couldn't help but see the lost expression on his face as he died. I couldn't help but remember that he was my little brother.

"Chewie, we were calling him Chewie."

"Ok, Leia, Luke, Han and Chewie destroyed this horrible weapon. However, this just inspired Malak to create an even bigger weapon. This one would put the previous one to shame. It was an enormous station, the size of a moon. It had enough fire power to destroy a world, like the last one. Only this one was worse because it also had enough fighters and ships on and around it to destroy planets and keep the rebellion from attacking." I felt about five years old as I listened to Carth's voice. It lulled me into a restful state. I still wasn't ready to sleep, but the knot in my gut and heart was untying itself little by little as he rattled on.

"The rebellion found out about this huge station and decided that it had to be destroyed to save the galaxy. So, the rebellion gathered their heroes. Luke had, in the years since the first station, matured into a young man that could use the Force. A Master Vandar guided him along the way into being a full-fledged Jedi. Leia could use the Force, but not like Luke could. Luke had a special power that made him the target of Malak. Luke could rally people around him."

"Battle Meditation." I mumbled against the hand I'd pulled away from my waist and pressed to my face instead.

"Right, how could I forget the name to such an important power, especially with Bastila repeating it every five minutes." I giggled. I was really reverting to childhood. I flipped over to watch Carth tell the story. My head lay on his chest. His hand started to absently stroke across my hair. I loved when people played with my hair, it was comforting.

"While Luke was off doing Jedi things, Han and Leia talked. They found out they had a lot in common. They'd both been members of the evil empire ruled by Malak. Han had trusted the wrong people and had left them when he discovered how badly he was betrayed. He vowed never to trust anyone else, just himself. He even said to Leia, 'I take orders from just one person, sister, and that's me!'." Carth pantomimed a finger pointing at his chest as he said the line. It was endearing and comical. I laughed, I couldn't help it. The knot loosened itself further.

"As Han and Leia worked together, they started to fall in love. Even after it was revealed how disparate their lives had been, they still fell in love. They didn't admit it to each other. Han was scared. I couldn't tell you how Leia was feeling."

"I think she was scared too. She wasn't supposed to love, her being who she was."

"Yeah?" Carth gave a small smile I could dimly see in the low light.

"Yeah. She had loved him for a long time, she just didn't want to admit it." I was going to feel really stupid if Carth wasn't pretending that I was the Leia in the story and he was the Han character.

"That's good to hear. Err, for Han in the story, I mean. I'm glad you felt, err, Leia felt that way about me, err, Han. What I'm trying to say is, I'm glad Han and Leia felt the same way because it makes telling the story easier." I put my hand on his chest and pressed against his heart. I could feel its pulse picking up and I gave a quick kiss on the spot right next to my head. Carth leaned down a little and kissed the top of my head.

"I'm glad Han and Leia felt the same way too."

"You are a distraction, sister. Anyway, some things that Malak did separated Han and Leia. When they were reunited, they finally admitted their feelings. Han hadn't trusted or cared about anyone or anything in a long time so it was hard for him to admit it to Leia, especially after what he'd learned about her. He sucked up his pride and admitted. He was really relieved when Leia admitted to caring for him, too.

"Meanwhile, Luke decided to sacrifice himself to help the rest of his friends. He was captured by Malak and tempted to turn to the dark side. Meanwhile, Leia, Han and Chewie mounted a strike team to destroy the station. They infiltrated the shields and destroyed the generator. Luke turned back from the dark side and helped Leia. During the confrontation, it was revealed that Malak was actually the brother of Leia. They were too far into the confrontation to turn back, however. The dark side had eaten away what Leia could barely remember of her brother. He was a shell of the man she'd grown up with and in the end, she was forced to kill the shell. With little thought to her own safety, she dragged his body through the station until she reached a ship. The strike team followed. As they all flew off the station, it blew up with seconds to spare.

"The brave group of friends flew down to the planet below. Han didn't understand why Leia had risked all of their lives over the body of the enemy. He said some pretty awful things to the woman he supposedly loved. He didn't even pause to think about how she was feeling or why. He could see that she was torn up but his pride got in his way to asking. He skipped the heartrending funeral Leia had for her brother out of spite. Once it was hammered into his thick skull with a hydrospanner, he felt like a complete jerk. He worked out a truce with Leia, but he didn't apologize." Carth's voice had gotten soft. I knew we weren't talking about a story anymore. This was Carth's way of apologizing to me.

"Did he have to work for her forgiveness?" I put my arm around Carth's stomach and held on.

"What would you do? I mean, if you were Leia?" I loved the way he stuttered over words. It was so Carth, just like the smell I was breathing in as I lay there.

"I'd make him work for it, maybe crawl across the floor on his knees bearing flowers and candies, singing a love ballad." Carth shocked me when he got out of bed. He turned the bedside light on and went to the other side of the room. He got on his knees and started knee walking over towards me. I was speechless. For a woman who lived by her wits first and her lightsabers second, this was a very rare occurrence.

"What in the name of the Force do you think you're doing?"

"I'm working for it. I know the last time I apologized to you; you teased me that I'd have to work for it. This time, I don't think a kiss is enough. Revan, I was selfish when I tossed those words at you. I was selfish when I wasn't willing to support you. I, um, I know I can be a bit stubborn." I got out of bed and tried to pull him off his knees. I'd been kidding when I said crawling.

"Stubborn? You could give lessons to a ronto!" I kept tugging at his arms, trying to lift him off his knees.

"Yeah, well, just let me get to the apology. Revan, I should have stopped to consider how you were feeling and ask you why you were feeling like you did. Instead, I had my own assumptions and I didn't. So, do you forgive me?"

"Where are the candies and flowers?" Carth's face fell. He was much too serious at times. His gaze ducked down towards the floor. I grabbed his chin and tried to force it back up. He wouldn't let me so I used the Force. "Carth, I'm kidding. I was kidding on the candies, I was kidding on the flowers and I was sure as the sun will rise kidding on the crawling thing. Please, get up!" I tugged at his shoulders again as he put his arms around me. He pillowed his head against my midriff.

"If you aren't the most exasperating woman I've ever met! I'll get you for this, sister!" I only laughed. It was still a bit watery, but I was feeling better. The overwhelming grief that had encompassed my whole focus since I killed Malak was starting to lift. I could see a light at the end of the tunnel. I hugged the head that was cushioned against me. The tears that had been stuck inside me since I lit the fire to burn my brother's body started to fall as I slid onto the floor. Carth caught me as I came down and held on.

"I've got you. Cry all you need, beautiful, I'll be here for you. I will always be here for you."

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Originally submitted as a response to a challenge issued on kotorfanmedia dot com. Challenge was to use SW movieverse in KOTOR realm. Hope you all enjoy!


	7. Intentions: Revan

A/N: Written for the Villians challenge. This details the fall of Revan and is meant as a prologue to the game itself. As always, I'd love to hear what you think.

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_**It started off innocently enough.**_

The Jedi Council had turned down her proposal to save the Galaxy from the Mandalorian invasion. They'd dismissed her suggestions out of turn.

Ignoring the Council's command not to interfere, Revan and those that supported her were off to fight the war against the Mandalorians. The Galaxy needed their protection

They were doing good work, things that the Jedi Council wasn't brave enough, smart enough, strong enough to do.

They were going to save the Galaxy.

They lost themselves, but it had started off innocently enough.

_**The mask was getting more comfortable each and every day.**_

The Mandalorian warriors were fearsome enemies. For every Mandalorian killed, the Republic soldiers and the Jedi lost five soldiers. They were grossly outnumbered; Revan couldn't help the feeling of helpless, hopeless despair that pulsed through her as she watched her forces get decimated.

That despair mutated into rage as she flipped her mask down and waded into the battle. As she left the command platform, she thought she saw a shocked expression on Malak's face but she had been wrong before. Perhaps it was jealousy. It didn't matter.

Her mask, that red and black visage, hid her true identity. The Mandalorians feared the mask but more than that, they feared the twin lightsabers that flared to life as she engaged her first target. As she cleaved the man in twain, she laughed. The mask turned her laughter into something emotionless, mechanical and unrecognizable, even to her own ears..

She started wearing the mask at all times. It hid her from enemies and allies alike.

The mask was getting more comfortable each and every day.

_**Each tremble in the Force ate just a bit more of her soul.**_

Malak and Revan stood on the command deck, looking out over the battlefield -- if a battle raging in the midst of space could be _called_ a battlefield. Her general had fulfilled the mission; the activation of the gravity generator would ensure the destruction of Malachor V. It's destruction was necessary to break the will of the Mandalorians, the Galaxy had to be saved and Revan was the only one able to fulfill the role of savior.

Each explosion, each flare of light and each pulse of the gravity generator caused a small tremble in the Force. Revan felt the passing of those lives as they were extinguished.

Each tremble in the Force ate just a bit more of her soul.

_**He wasn't the first she would slaughter and he wouldn't be the last.**_

Revan sneered at the apprentice in front of her. She could smell the fear rolling off him like a perfume produced by the finest flowers. To Revan, the scent of fear, that acrid cross between sweet and sour, was better than that of the finest perfume. It reinforced her drive and dedication to the mission of saving the Galaxy from itself

This man, this idiot whose incompetence had led to the capture of Malak, would be destroyed. After all, Malak's capture had led to expenditures to search for Malak. The search had lead to the discovery of the loss of Malak's jaw. That loss had led to him being relegated to the position of apprentice. The reduction in position had resulted in a loss of favor.

With a smile that would have haunted the man's life had it lasted beyond a few minutes longer, Revan twisted the Force into obeying her will.

He wasn't the first she would slaughter.

He wouldn't be the last.

_**She would be lauded as a hero and a generous benefactor.**_

As she entered the Star Forge, she could feel the thrum of the engines underneath her feet. The Force permeated this monstrosity, flooded her senses. It made her giddy, if such an emotion could belong to her any longer. It was no matter that the Force was dark and twisted here. She was far too strong to succumb.

Her intentions were pure. She'd discovered a greater evil behind the Mandalorian threat. The Sith'ari were far more dangerous than any Mandalorian. They were an evil, perverse ace and Revan would protect the Galaxy from them -- whether the Galaxy wanted that protection or not.

The fighters and the ships this immense factory produced would overwhelm any enemy that she set her sights on. War was coming. She needed to be prepared.

As the factory flared to life and the first sets of fighters and capital ships flew out of the docking bays, a feral smile wound itself across her lips. No one could see the smile behind the mask, but it was enough that she knew. It was enough that she knew her level of satisfa No one could see the smile behind the mask, but it was enough that she knew.

As she watched from the deck of her command ship, more and more ships gathered. Revan gave the order. They would protect the Galaxy at all costs.

If the Republic fought against her they would be destroyed as well.

In the end, she would be lauded as a hero and a generous benefactor.

**_... her last thought was that she had been betrayed._**

The destruction of Telos enraged Revan. Malak had gone behind her, over her, around her in ordering Karath to destroy the planet. They were not planet destroyers. They were saviors and Malak needed a reminder of that.

The day that would change future events started the same as any other. Their spies had given them information that the Republic fleet was amassing and the Sith had moved to engage.

The thrill of hyperspace travel had yet to fade. Revan missed the days of flying a one-man fighter and thought she might venture out during the battle.

Instead, she was forced to engage a Jedi strike team. They that invaded her command ship denied her the opportunity. She laughed at the double-bladed yellow lightsaber confronting her. Bastila Shan was the Jedi's greatest hope?

As Revan advanced, the ship shuddered underneath her feet. She looked to the side and saw that Malak's ship was firing towards her. Malak had finally found the courage to assume the helm of Sith Lord.

When a piece of the command center fell on her, her last thought was that she had been betrayed.

**_All she knew was that her life had changed and it might have been for the better._**

The obnoxiously loud alarms jarred her out of sleep. A vaguely familiar man came rushing in to the room. As the room shuddered, she realized she was on a ship. How she got there or what she was supposed to be doing were questions she couldn't answer.

All she knew was that her life had changed and it might have been for the better.


End file.
